


Relentless Pace

by thepottermalfoyproblem



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Panic Attacks, Vaderkin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-17
Updated: 2016-03-17
Packaged: 2018-05-27 06:05:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6272758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thepottermalfoyproblem/pseuds/thepottermalfoyproblem
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Some days, it is all Darth Vader can do not to dig his fingers into his suit and rip it into shreds as his regulator keeps its ruthless and relentless pace.<br/>Wouldn't you panic too if you could no longer scream?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Relentless Pace

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MissPop](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissPop/gifts).



> [ This](http://poplitealqueen.tumblr.com/post/141181844214) post by Poplitealqueen made me do it.

Eyes blinking open, Darth Vader stared blankly at the pristine white wall of his meditation pod. Even in here he could not escape the rasp of his own breathing, harsh in the otherwise quiet space. But here he could delay donning the last of his necessary prison, count the few sweet moments without the lead weight of his helmet encasing his head.

He closed his eyes again, imagining himself someplace else. Someplace warm, perhaps, with sunlight playing over verdant fields and… he forcefully ground his thoughts to a halt. Something in the back of his mind informed him that today of all days was probably not a good time to revisit that particular memory. Instead of trying again with a different memory, he mentally sighed, timing it with his hissing exhale to at least give himself a semblance of a real sigh, and used the force to start the pod’s exit sequence.

As his helmet sealed and the viewscreen flickered into view, he couldn’t help but wonder why the date in the corner of his vision seemed so important. He shrugged off the feeling of foreboding, something he was grateful he could still do with relative ease, and made his way out into the ship to start his day.

\----

Four hours later, he fervently wished he had never left his pod. One moment he’d been giving out the final orders to the ships officers, the next moment the world had narrowed into one pounding pulse point as he remembered why the date seemed so damned familiar.

At one time he had spent this day in warm grassy fields, laughing in delight with unshackled breath, seeing his love with unfiltered eyes, feeling her touch on his bare skin. At one time this day had been the happiest day of his life. Now it was a reoccurring nightmare, everything he could never have again weighing down on him until he could no longer focus on anything but his own harsh breathing ringing in his ears.

They weren’t even really his own ears, he thought, and watched a warning flash across his view screen as his heartrate spiked. In as tight a voice as he could manage, he dismissed the remaining officers. They scurried out of the room and he tightened his grip on the edge of the table, listening to servos whine and wood crack with the force of his grasp. Out of habit he tried to suck in a calming breath, and felt panic spike in his gut as his regulator kept its even, relentless pace.

He felt his skin crawl with the sudden panic, the need to escape rising to the forefront of his mind. Pushing himself back from the table as hard as he could, he stormed off down the hall in the direction of his meditation pod. The viewscreen blurred in front of his eyes, and he felt the tickle in his nose that meant he needed to sniff, but he couldn’t even do that.

In his mind, the screaming started. He could no longer make the noise himself, not with his regulator monitoring his air intake and his voice gravelly from the constant irritation, but his mind did the job for him. Sometimes the screaming lasted for days, a grating feeling that left him exhausted and irritable.

After that, he barely remembered getting back into his pod, just that the gentle whisper of a breeze on the bare skin of his scalp was a gift from the gods. It eased the closed in feeling from the rest of the suit at least. And though he couldn’t sniff back the tears streaming from his eyes, he could at least wipe them away. Slowly, he calmed himself enough that the world no longer narrowed to a single point and he could focus on other things.

He moved on to his remaining duties, but somewhere in the back of his mind, Anakin Skywalker kept screaming.


End file.
